Without evidence: I know
by lw531
Summary: How long does it take Max to read Liz's signs? A retelling of scenes from episode 1x09 and 1x10, Liz sets up each effort at getting closer with Max with subtle touches, and lingering stares that he doesn't pick up on. Even after they kiss, he stumbles on his way to getting used to Liz loving him the way he's always dreamed.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I DO NOT OWN ROSWELL NEW MEXICO THE TV SHOW, OR THE CHARACTERS. I AM USING SOME OF THE LANGUAGE AND SUMMARIZING SOME OF THE EPISODE "SONGS ABOUT TEXAS" TO SET UP ANOTHER APPROACH TO THE SCENE.

On the way to the bar Maria was searching for, Liz contemplated the deeper sadness Max was carrying. Even though she didn't give Isobel the shot, she still carried remorse for the result of her actions, that she had put anyone at risk of harming themselves because of something she created. That remorse, for the past seven weeks, had been forcing her to revisit her grief and anger towards Max, given her own flaws.

As they sat at the bar, Max's refusal to take a drink moved her towards even more compassion. After a decade of torturing himself with a secret; a decade of she not knowing, he was on the brink of losing the one person he had dedicated himself to protecting. In him, she saw the grief she herself had had, regarding losing Rosa. She couldn't ignore that. After everything, they had a sense of guilt and shame and grief in common, in many ways, her actions had evened the playing field. And while she was working on fixing a problem she started, that work had allowed to develop a working friendship with Michael someone who had entrusted her with his life as well as Isobel's. The sense of loss they all shared was deeper and, she had to admit something bigger was at play.

As she and Max headed to the hotel, she told Max, "I'm so glad Maria pulled you up to sing."

"I can't carry a tune," he chuckled, "but she didn't give me much of a choice."

"Well," Liz says as they approached the door, "it was good to see you smile, even if for a little bit."

As Max followed Liz into the lobby of Silver Saddle Motel, he hoped they would have enough rooms to divide the pairs. Liz was being too kind to him that night and, as much as he was grateful for it, he couldn't see past the pain of being so distant from Isobel. He knew that must have been a motivating factor for Liz-even though Isobel was a stubborn pain in the ass who tricked Valenti into giving her the shot-given the reports from Michael over the past few weeks whenever he would come by the pods, he knew she was working tirelessly towards finding a cure for Is. After all she suffered at the hands of his sister, she was doing her best to help her. There was no way they deserved that.

Taking in the teenager at the lobby desk, Max was concerned, especially when he says the "Jalapeno room was real spicy." Looking at Liz's shocked face, undoubtedly the stereotype of spicy in addition to th4e cultural appropriation of jalapeno must have been offensive as fuck. Even he was uncomfortable by the situation. Looking at her he says, "I'll sleep in the truck."

"Don't be silly," she says turning towards him, "it's fine, we're both adults…"

Still, he didn't trust himself with her, he didn't trust that he wouldn't surrender to the yearning and place both of them in a more awkward position. Then, the clerk says, "Never mind, found another room, the Alamo room," asking after they both leaned onto the counter, "which one of you is into mass carnage?"

"I'll take that one," Max says, "thanks," wanting to speed up an already awkward interaction. Racism, grief, sexual tension all at once in a motel lobby, he wanted to get as far away from the discomfort as possible. Turning to Liz, he says, "it sounds like the jalapeno room has more room for you and Maria anyway."

"Oh," Liz says trying to keep her cool and hide her disappointment, "okay…"though she wasn't sure she'd see Maria that night. She thought to herself, _Michael, Maria and alcohol tends to lead to something Maria pursues though remorseful in the morning. And she needs that distraction without interruptions._

"Your rooms," the clerk says, " are on opposite sides of the courtyard, who do I walk to their room first?"

"Liz," Max says turning towards the clerk,"and then you can take me to my room."

"Sure," the clerk says leading them on their way. Liz's room wasn't too far from the lobby, which made their first walk short. On arriving to the jalapeno room, LIz blinked a few times at the tremendous amount of red in the room. She had walks into a stereotype. Spicy wasn't the right word to cover the room. Tacky was more like it. As soon as she walks in, she says, "Thank you," to the clerk, and "Good night" to Max, without being able to control the sigh of disappointment.

On the way to his room, he noticed a set of swings in the middle of the motel's courtyard. Unexpected to find at a motel, then again, maybe it was a place that people stayed passing through. The cheesy lights decorating the patio was a little much, he thought to myself. And his room appeared equally as cheesy. The only carnage had been in the paintings, and the sheets, the curtains looked like something out of a child's room.

Once in bed, he couldn't shake his concern for Isobel, or his grief for Liz enough to get to sleep. It's like the conversation he and Liz had about never being comfortable had jinxed him into another night of sleep. After tossing and turning for about an hour, he put his clothes back on and went outside to sit in the swing. While there, even though it was a little cold, he found peace he couldn't find in the room. The cold open air cradled him into easier a settled mind that, while still conflicted, was less burdened in sitting on a swing than laying on a bed.

On seeing Liz walk towards him, his heart skipped a beat. Of course she would have a hard time sleeping, between Maria's disappointment in not finding someone who could heal her mother and her own conflicted emotions about not yet finding a cure for Isobel. Even sleepy and a little drunk, she took his breath away.

"Couldn't sleep," Liz asks on finding Max on the swings in the courtyard.

"No," he answered as she pulled up the swing next to him, "you?"

"I couldn't get comfortable," she answered, contemplating whether or not she should admit that part of the reason was because he wasn't in or near her room. Sitting there swinging in momentary silence, she couldn't help but think about how easy it'd be to kiss him if his sick sister, her friend's sick mom, and her dead sister didn't act as emotional barriers between them.

"I'm sorry you didn't come here for what you came for," she says as she swung her swing slightly towards his.

He shrugged it off, "Shouldn't have let myself be the hoping kind of person."

"Hope gets us up every morning," she says, "I think of Maria, and all she's suffered because of what her mom may or may not know about aliens, and she can, after loss, just get up and sing. She has no one else, and look at her. Her hope, sometimes, is contagious…"

"Because she doesn't sit by like I have," he says. Then he begins to talk about the lives he didn't save and how, if he had more practice, he could control it. "My gift can be a hell of a burden," he admits to himself."

She then makes a reference ot the Henry IV quote he had recited the night of prom, hoping to inch towards showing compassion, and tenderness, moved that he, like her, struggles with wanting to help heal people. His smile in response melts her and she grabs at the rope of his swing. She leans towards him and says, "there's no guarantee that-that anything we try works," adding, "that's what hope is for, to help us believe that we can."

Feeling her body close to him, because she pulled herself, via the swing there, warmed him in ways that he didn't feel his heart deserved to be warmed. He couldn't stop himself from smoothing her hair, "Hmm," he says, "but do I deserve that kind of hope?"

"We all do," she answered letting go of his swing, the cold of the night seeping through her sweater.

Looking at her shiver, he got up and offered her his coat, "May I?" he asks before wrapping it around her.

She nodded and when he began thanking her for what she was doing for Isobel, she stood up and grabbed his hand, comparing his behavior with hers over that summer. "I too would have done anything for my sister, Max," she says looking at his hands and, as he attempted to pull away, she added, "you were so young and placed in an incredibly difficult position, I don't doubt I would have done something similar."

"But I lied to you for ten years-

"Because of that difficult position," she interjected, pulling herself closer to him, "there were people who could have been killed if you had taken more responsibility for that well-intended yet immature decision, " she concluded as she held his gaze and raised her hand to smooth his face. In their weeks apart, she had bargained with herself regarding all of her emotions and she couldn't find a sense of peace with staying angry or acting indifferent.

"I'm so sorry," he says leaning his head onto hers.

"I know," she replied, wrapping her arms around him, "I know."

After a couple of beats, taking in the aroma of her hair, a mixture of bar, desert, and minty shampoo, he broke apart from her embrace, "do you want to try getting comfortable again?"

She nodded, "can you walk me to my room?"

He nodded as he followed there, second from the far edge of the building. As she opened the door, he couldn't help but laugh again, "Who could _ever _sleep in this room?" he asks her.

"I know," she laughed, "red is an alarming color..._white _people."

"Yeah," he agreed, "white humans."

She nudged him as she walks more fully into the room.

He used that moment to say, "Goodnight, Liz," as he turned around to walk towards his.

"Can you stay with me," she asks taking off her shoes, "I know we both have a lot on our minds and I feel like you being here will help me sleep better…"

Despite wanting to give her space, she was giving him reasons not to, insisting on it. He begrudgingly stayed, sitting down on the bed as she rolled over to give him space. "I mean, look at this," she says holding up the blanket, "it's tiny."

"Do they have others?" he asks getting up and going to the closet.

"Nope," she answered as he found it as she did earlier that night.

"That sucks," he says, "at least the Alamo room blanket fit the bed."

"Ha!" she says as he returned to sit on the bed, "so you should have let me stay in that room!"

"But the bed was smaller," he defended, "my ankles reached the end of it."

"For a chaparrita like me? I would have been fine," she says as she leaned onto his shoulder, "look at how tiny I am next to you."

"Yeah," he breathed looking at the inches of leg between her feet and his, and then turning to find her nestle her head into the nape of his neck.

"Por lo menos," she says pulling his jacket around her, "your jacket makes up the difference."

"Ha," he says, "it does…"

He started setting the scene of a story that could take place in a random, cheesy yet a little seedy motel like theirs, Liz's laughter and "mmhmm's" moving it forward until she hummed a signal of falling asleep. After everything they could be friends, he thought to himself, she was insisting on being that much. He closed his eyes for a second, and began breathing at her pace, to slow his heart and find a little peace before the long drive in the morning.


	2. Before I never leave

He awoke with the sun peeking in red through the jalapeno curtains. To his left, Liz had curled into a ball, under the jalapeno throw, his jacket somehow making its way to the other side of her. He grabbed it and decided to see if he could find Arizona, the fake healing woman, and get more answers about the symbol from her flier.

Liz awoke to find that she had somehow managed to sleep and that Max was gone. Disappointed, she went into the bathroom to at least wash her face and rinse her mouth. Some of her makeup had run and she perused the cabinets for a little soap. Once she found it, she tried her best to clean her raccoon eyes. She took the washcloth and wiped parts of her that smelled. While she didn't know where Max was, she had a sneaking suspicion he didn't just leave her there. As she folded up the jalapeno blanket, she heard a knock at the door and his voice saying, "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," she answered unlocking the door, "come in."

As he brought more of the sun into the room with him, she noticed that he had bags under his eyes, "Did you sleep?" she asks as he walks in holding what looked like hot coffee cups in either hand.

He shrugged and answered, "A little," adding, "I went to go see if I could talk to Arizona about the symbol on her flier."

"Oh," she says, "and?"

"Dead end, kind of," he says, "I can tell you on the way home."

Once they arrived in Michael's truck, Max sent him a text message stating they were leaving. Then, as they both got in, he began narrating his visit with Arizona as she was packing up. "While Arizona was watching me pay her with the cash in my pocket, my belt, and my jacket, the elder woman she was with told her to leave-

"You gave her a strip tease?" Liz asks as they got on the highway, "Jealous!"

He laughed, as embarrassment rose to his cheeks, "yeah, she was bummed to leave the striptease."

He continued telling her the story of the healer woman, and how excited he had felt once he knew there was someone like him. As she inched over closer to him, he took a beat because her closeness was arousing, especially after she took his arm and wrapped it around hers. "Liz?" he asks looking down at her for a moment.

"I'm listening," she breathed, "there was a woman, like you, who could heal but didn't speak…"

"Yeah," he says, as he felt her weight against him get heavier, "but she passed around the time we came out of our pods. She says, the day before she died, that because 'he arrived she could leave,' and it's not clear if she's talking about me, or…"

He looked down at her and found that she was sleeping again. He continued the rest of the drive in silence, contemplating the bittersweet clue he had just gained. As they crossed the state line, the desert's open space remained the only constant. The unmanicured land looked as vast and mysterious as his unrecovered past. He thought out loud, will I ever have the right to hope?"

"Yes," Liz breathed smoothing her far hand on his leg.

"You're awake?"

She nodded, sitting up, "I didn't realize fall asleep," she thought out loud, "I must respond well to your warmth."

"We're almost back," he says, "do you mean if I check on Isobel first?"

She nodded, saying, "Yes, of course," asking, "do you visit her every day?"

"I try to," he says, "I know she can't hear me, but it helps me. It helps the pain feel less and," he says as he turned toward the cave's exit, "as you recommended, it helps me hurt less and forgive her."

"Huh," she says moved by the advice of hers he followed, "that makes sense. As you remember, I visited Rosa in the cemetery on arriving," she says taking in the morning bright sky, "I've visited a few more times since learning about Maria's mom, Mimi. Knowing that she knew Isobel's secret, that Mimi thought she had a beautiful destiny, visiting her I can talk to her about what I had hoped for her," she concluded, "it gives me comfort to imagine talking to her and repairing what time didn't allow us to repair."

Max was speechless as she pulled up near the cave. He remained silent until they entered the cave and he repeated the concluding parts of his story.

She walks out of the cave, leaving them peace, afraid that they'd never find a cure. Learning that he had kept vigil on her for the bulk of the time Isobel was in the pod, deserve more than the "I'm sorry," she gave him. As much as she wanted to encourage his hope, she didn't have the confidence to fulfill her part of maintaining it. Hearing him insist on trusting her, believing in her prompted her to tell him the mistake he was making. "I'm not the same person I was ten years ago…"

And, as she explained the reasons why, she couldn't look at him. Every time she tried, all she found was a person who looked at her like she was perfect and she couldn't handle the pressure. And then when he interrupted her listing her faults, she couldn't help but look at him, see him and take in all the ways he saw her.

When he started talking about the reasons she spoke Spanish, she interrupted, "I think in both languages," she blurted, "and I know a lot of others do…

"Okay," he says inching towards her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "you always have to convince everyone you're the smartest person in the world when everyone knows…"

"No, she says, closing the gap between them, "I don't..."

"But you do," he says continuing to the list the ways she tries to be better than others and live up to an ideal, all the while stumbling.

She buried her face in his chest, wanting to not bear witness to his ease in speaking about the depth of his love for her. And when he says, "with just evidence," he lifted her eyes towards him and says, "I just know."

She wrapped her arms around him, wanting to laugh, cry, and shout all at once. Holding him was all she could do to keep from doing either.

When he says, "C'mon, I'll take you home," he says grabbing her hand from behind him.

Despite his attempt to pull her, she stayed in her place and, instead pulled her back towards him, stretching up a little further to kiss him.

Shocked, it took him a couple of beats to return the kiss and pull her in closer. He felt the sun warmer just then, and surrendered to all the ways her hands traveling his body made him feel. He also allowed his hands to travel her back and her sides all the ways he thought he could only dream of. Even as they parted for air, he returned to kissing or her him in ways he could no longer keep track of. He thought he couldn't love her more, or want her more. "Why?" he asks her, when his lips and tongue grew weary of taking her in.

Her eyes took in the way the sun made them his almost honey-colored. In them, she saw her lab partner, the boy who improved her otherwise devastating prom night, and the man who held onto the potential of what they, together, could have been if forces beyond their control didn't tear them apart. "Because there weren't any more reasons to stop fighting what I've been feeling for you, she answered him," I have been wanting to explore my otherwise ignored feelings for you for days."

"Feelings?" he asks as the corners of his lips defied gravity. "For days?" He asks as she closed her eyes and lowered her head. As surprised as he was about the way she took him in, he was equally surprised by the emotions she expressed.

In response, she kept her eyes close but nodded her head. Giving him an eskimo kiss, she asks leaning her head onto his chin, "Was it worth the wait?"

"Yes," he answered, lifting her chin to look at her eyes.

Once she opened them, he held her gaze steady and says, "but let's not wait again, okay? No more waiting ever.."

She laughed before he took his lips into hers. It felt good to grab the back of his hair, to feel his body against hers. Thinking about what it would be like to not have clothes separate them, she remembered the time they had spent away, "Max," she says parting from him, "we should probably go…"

"Yeah," he sighed smoothing his hand against her hair, "you probably need to go home-

"Take a shower," she says putting her hand on his heart, "get ready for work…"

"Oh," he says, frowning.

His frown hit her in the gut, she wanted to tell him she was going to check on the serum for Isobel, but she didn't want to get his hopes up. As she got into the passenger's side, she asks, "Why didn't you drive your car?"

"Because," he started walking around to the driver's side, "my jeep needs repairs."

"Ah," she says as they pulled onto the road, "how _old _is it?"

"Pretty old," he laughed as she put her hand on his leg, "but it carries a lot of memories for me…"

"Hmm," Liz breathed, "I lo-" she caught herself before she says love, "you are so sentimental…"

"Yeah, I pine for a girl for ten years," he chuckled turning towards her.

"The luckiest girl," she says, smoothing her hand against his leg.

He adjusted himself, aroused by the way she was touching him, clearing his throat, he says shifting attention from the dirty thoughts brewing, "what did you have planned today?"

"Probably telling my dad how it went," she began, "with Maria...and you."

"And me?"

"Yeah," she says, "he'll love that we're...finally."

"Finally?"

She nodded, "he'd been rooting for you since that day you told me knowing that you loved me was the most important thing."

"You talked to him about me?"

"Oh yeah," she says, "I had to tell someone about how confused I was-I made it about mixed signals and time passing, but yeah. Maria's gonna love this story."

"Even Maria knew?"

"Since I arrived," she says as they drove into downtown. "She was asking about the chemistry. I told her I thought you were ignoring the spark, and that the signals have been mixed. Of course," she remarked, "it was easy to blame on your...on Jenna, given the drive-in."

"I felt sooo bad," he says as they pulled in, "she ended it because I called her a port in the storm and you the hurricane-"

"Max!" she gasped, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning towards him, "You didn't."

He laughed and nodded. Pulling her to him, he whispered in her ear, "I was so lost in you."

She giggled into the nape of his neck as he kissed the nape of hers.

"Oh, Max," she breathed as his hands traveled to the bottom frame of her bra, "that tickles."

"I should let you go then," he says lifting his head from her.

"Though I don't want you to," she says smoothing her hand against his cheek.

"And I don't want to," he echoed.

"I should go before…"

"Before..."

"Before I never leave," she says before slipping out of the passenger's seat.


	3. Waking Isobel

When he returns to the cave, on dropping Liz off at the Crashdown, he opened his notebook to where he had left the notes of his writing. He journaled about the events of the weekend. There was material there he felt he could turn into the novel he had always wanted. With Liz finally inviting him into her heart, the muses were screaming. He talked out loud, as though Isobel were there, thinking through the feedback she would provide him if he were. This time, she would support the idea of Liz in his life, because of how much she had been giving them over the years. Because the remorse of her actions, the remorse everyone was feeling, would move the past aside, for a new beginning. He dared to allow himself to be the hoping kind.

As he began reading outline about the darkened, hidden chambers of his heart, he heard a rustle and looked up to see Liz walking in to the cave.

"Did you write that" she asks.

He didn't know what to say, bashful that she had caught any bit of it. He walks towards her, "What are you doing here?" he asks standing up and walking towards her.

As she began to explain her work, he bent down to kiss her, "Thank you," he whispered as he parted from her lips, knowing that she was here with the serum.

"But before we try," she says setting her hands up to keep distance, "there's something I need to tell you. There have been more alien-related deaths in Roswell…

"But Isobel only backed out in 2008," he interrupted.

"Without evidence I know that," she explains and as she pulls the serum out of her pocket, she says, "that's why I brought this."

She melted more of her silver, into which she dipped his hand, and he reached into the pod to pull Isobel out of it.

Once she was out of the pod, Isobel says, "Did you find a cure?"

"There's only one way to find out," Liz answered as she punctured the needle into Isobel's heart.

Isobel immediately felt her strength coming back. She pulled the blanket Max wrapped around her tighter. "Oh, God," she gasped, "I feel it working...thank you, Liz!"

Liz smiled at her, turning her eyes to Max as Isobel stumbled to stand by herself.

Feeling a temperature change in the air, Isobel asks, "how long was I in there?"

"Six weeks," Max answered as Liz reached to grab his hand.

Liz added, "MIchael and I have been working on it during my time off. He didn't rest until we…

Isobel reached for Liz with one arm, taking her in a tight embrace, "I'm so-thank you so-"

"It's okay, Isobel," Liz says taking her in, unintentionally breaking apart from Max, "where should we take you to get you dressed? We can't just take you home like that…"

"I have a change of clothes for you at home," Max says taking in the scene of the two most important women in his life hugging each other, "and then we can think about how to get you to Noah. He's been so pissed…"

"Pissed?"

"He didn't believe you were in rehab," Max explained as they shuffled outside of the cave, "and we couldn't tell him where you were, soo…"

Isobel sighed, "I promised I wouldn't lie to him anymore…" she thought out loud, "and now I have to-again."

"We can plan it out in the truck-

"Where's your jeep, Max?" she asks as they neared Michael's truck.

"I need to take it to the shop," he answered, "I'm borrowing Michael's-

"Yeah," Liz interrupted, "Michael spent the night with Maria and left us to fend for ourselves in Texas."

"Texas?" Isobel repeated shifting her stare from Max to Liz and back again.

"Yeah," Liz says, "long story."

"Can I call you later?" Max asks Liz.

She nodded as she walks towards him and kissed him goodbye.

As Liz walks to her car, Max watched her taking in all the events of the weekend, hopeful with what tomorrow would bring. He let his mind wander into the memory of Liz's first kiss until Isobel's throat clearing brought him back to the present. "I guess it is a long story…"

On the way home, Max caught Isobel up backwards, starting with Liz's kiss, going to the Native healer who let him know there was a fourth alien who may have been responsible for other deaths besides Rosa's and Michael's heartbreak between Alex and Maria. Isobel took it all in fairly quickly, not asking questions.

While Max had considered not telling her everything, given what happened before she went into the pod, he felt it pertinent to be completely honest.

When she walks into his house, she directs herself to where he says he keeps her clothes and then went to take a shower.

In the meanwhile, Max pulls out a change of clothes for him, a pillow and a blanket so he can sleep on the couch. As Isobel walks out of the bathroom, she finds Max setting up the couch as a bed. "I can sleep on the couch," she suggests.

He shakes his head no and says, "I'll be fine out here," adding, "it's better than being camped out next to you…"

"Oh, Max," she begins, "I really thought-

"No need to explain," he interrupts walking towards her, "I'm just so glad you're here. I missed you…"

He takes her in and tries to catching up on six weeks of hugs.

"I'm scared, Max," she admits before they break apart, "I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

"Well," he says, "knowing there's a fourth alien; knowing they're the source of some violence, and knowing there was an alien who died before we walked out of our pods, there's more to us than meets the eye-that reminds me, I should text Michael and let him know you're here."

He pulls out his phone to text Michael, and watches Isobel dry her hair.

"I want to get back to the world slowly," she says. "I need to figure out what I am going to tell Noah...I want to start on the right foot without telling him…

Max shrugs, "whatever you need, I'm here-we all are."

"Thanks, Max," she sighs, "I just wish I would know that he would love me as much as Liz loves you-

"Wait," he interrupts smiling, "what?"

"Oh," Isobel says covering her mouth, then saying, "she hasn't said it yet?"

"No," he says through his smile, bowing his head to keep from having Isobel see him blush, "not yet. We just kissed today…"

"Just kissed?" Isobel asks walking towards him, "You have it soo bad."

He looks up to find her smiling from ear to ear. He rolls his eyes, and says, "Michael will come by to see you tomorrow," adding, "he's working his feelings out with Alex…"

"I am gone six weeks and my brothers finally get the guts to find love," she says turning towards the room, "maybe they'll stop being so mopey-

"Maybe," he says, "see you in the morning, Is."

"See you in the morning," she says as she closes the door.

WIth Isobel settled, Max takes a shower, letting the water pound on the knots on his back. He would finally be able to sleep to dream of another day of holding Liz close to him.


	4. Not all sisters were lost

AUTHOR'S NOTE - I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS OF ROSWELL NEW MEXICO OR THE CONTENT THAT'S SIMILAR.

We don't really get to see Liz talk about how she got to feel the way she felt about Max with others, and how does Maria feel about what happened; what would she have said if she knew about #Malex?

Liz calls Maria on arriving home, knowing that as much as Maria is her own savior, she wants to show up for her better. "Hey," she says, "how are you?"

"You free for a walk?" she asks.

"Yeah," Liz says, "you want me to meet you, or?"

"I'll drive to you," Maria answers.

On the way there, Maria contemplates the events of the weekend. Sleeping with Guerin again, as much as it was a mistake, not all of the mistake was because of the alcohol or her resistance to being close to anyone. She knew what Michael meant to Alex, ever since his return. She wasn't unaware of the energy between them, a mixture of love, grief, fear, and anger. Michael found comfort in her, without words, something which she appreciated at night, when she'd drunk enough to allow herself to need someone. Then the sun rose and all the fear, self-protection he exercised as a norm of being abandoned and abused for as long as he had came to the surface and she had to protect herself from someone else to save. More than anything, she wanted her mother. She wanted her mother so she could at least use the wings she had and make different choices, lead a less imprisoned life.

She find Liz sitting in the Crashdown, still open for business, drinking a milkshake. "Hey," shge said on walking in, "still up for a walk."

Liz nods and called out, "Me voy, Pa," before following Maria out of the Crashdown.

"Before I talk about my..._night_," Maria says, "how did you behave around, Max?"

"Well," Liz begins, "I put myself out there, y'know, I channeled my inner Maria courage, but with patience. Is being in rehab really messed him up," as they turn a corner, Liz continues, "once you left us, I would find subtle ways to touch him, I convinced him to help me sleep in the one hotel room I chose. I made it clear that the spark, after everything, was there."

"Look at you taking down that armor," Maria interjects.

"Yeah," Liz agrees, "it takes the moment where he tells me he loves me flaws and all-which was much better than I can ever do it justice-to pull him into me and kiss him."

"Kiss him?" Maria asks, "You just kissed…"

"Well," Liz answers tilting her head to one side, "we were in the desert, by that place we took an adventure a decade ago," she stops trying to find a way to explain why they were there," Max wanted to stretch his legs. I told him I didn't know why or how he could love me or have faith in me given how much we've changed…"

"Yeah," Maria agrees, "you have changed…"

"And then he gives this epic speech, Maria, like the one in the movies where the guy tells the girl he sees everything about her. The one we write for ourselves in our darkest moments when we try to convince ourselves we're strong enough-but better, Maria," Liz says stopping her feet, "so much better."

"And then you kiss him," Maria summarizes.

"It was more than a kiss," Liz says, "out in the desert, we took the other into us, and sometimes," she reflects, "I don't know if I could love him like that."

"Like you did without realizing in high school?" Maria asks continuing to walk.

Liz follows and asks, "Excuse me?"

Maria nods, "Sometimes," and correcting herself begins again and says, "Most of the time you have _no _idea...always wanting to see the good in people what greatness you miss in others. Whenever you were with Max, even just talking or working, like the moon and ocean you two were. Kyle was just a boat thinking he was making the waves…"

"I hope you find that, Maria," Liz says, "if that's what you want."

"Y'know why Michael's so easy to fall into," she asks herself and Liz.

Before Liz can answer, Maria responds to her own question, "because of the secrets we both have to hide. Because of the love we rarely get-me for being the only black girl for miles and he...he for never knowing family outside of Max & Is and even then, they're not _really _family. Is got married; Max pined for you. He, like me, has no one for his everyday stuff. And Alex," she sighs, "Alex doesn't either which makes all of this hard. Alex's dad _hates _him and his brothers are indifferent to him,"

"I know," Liz says.

Maria continues, "And I love Alex, like a brother...but none of us speak, not really-well, they didn't until today."

"Until today," Liz asks.

Maria nods and begins to summarize bearing witness to Michael and Alex talking in the garage yard. As soon as Alex declared that he loved Michael and felt that Michael loved him, despite how little they knew of each other, she had frozen in her place behind Michael's trailer. She heard them as they moved towards it and ran towards her car before she could see or hear what they were going to do to each other.

Liz, knowing that Alex knew given the update she received from Kyle, and knowing what Michael hid under his trailer, wondered if Michael decided to tell the boy he loved, like Max had, his secret. "Oh, Maria," Liz says wrapping her arm around her, "that sucks."

"And I don't want to drink this pain away," Maria says, "I am tired of numbing how lonely I am. And I'm not sure having someone will heal that-I am not saying that at all," she concludes, "I just see and hear all of y'all and I am here, slowly losing my one constant."

"Maria…"

"It's true," she says, "despite our friendship you left without looking back consumed by your grief-and I know, I know we hashed that out and that you apologized-but I can't just up and go. Taking care of my mom, keeping up the bar and the fortune telling," she begins, "has somehow trapped me here, and I feel like I have every reason to leave but no way to get anywhere I could go…

"And if," she thinks out loud, "if my mom gets better, then leaving won't be running away from pain," stopping in her own tracks, "it will just be me learning the person I could be if I could just be for me."

Liz stays silent, knowing she had run after Rosa died, to be the person she needed to be for herself. Her selfishness gave her a sense of purpose and way to exist in the world that few without parents had. As much as her mother has not been around, her father was her anchor, her father, in never leaving, gave her a place to return to. Nothing she could say would change the reality of the situation. The happiness of the day, of finally allowing herself to explore her feelings for Max, is bittersweet given the looming threat of a fourth alien.

Maria has to be her own savior, and like she told Michael, she has been every time, but that must be exhausting as she watches the people she grow up with move on without her. And the moving on part, she has to admit, has been selfish. "I hope," Liz says, "I somehow earn the right to be your friend again-

"Liz," Maria says as they head back taking a longer route.

"Seriously," Liz says, "as much as I get angry about the police and ICE and all that...I can leave-I could, if I wanted and he wanted-take my dad with me. You're right. And I know," she continues taking her friend's hand, "I know you can save yourself, but the way you-whether we realize it or not-carry all of us, that should have never been your burden to carry."

"I carried it because I love you, Liz," Maria interrupts, "you're all home to me…"

"We can do better," Liz says, "I _want _to do right by you. I want to see you the way you see me," she says, "I know, I know I've been selfish trying to run from the pain of losing Rosa. I know much I took for granted in doing that-how much I took for granted in always talking to you about Max this summer."

"Liz," Maria sighed.

"Just because I lost Rosa," Liz says, "doesn't mean I lost both my sisters."

They walked arm in arm the way back to the crashdown in contemplative silence, taking in what the other had said. Maria remains torn about what to do with her mother, unwilling to give up on the woman who made her who she was, as much as she aches for the freedom of what her life could be if she was unanchored. Looking at Liz, taking in what Liz had said, she's unsure of whether or not she can trust someone showing up for her the way she has for others. Liz's words do make her think about the way she uplifts others who rarely see what she's going through; she contemplates the necessity and burden of her strength and intuition, especially when others take for granted how exhausting it is.

"Let's do Karoake soon," Liz suggests as they get to the Crashdown," even if it's just on my roof, next weekend."

Maria shrugs, "my weekends aren't yours, you know."

"Then we'll do it on yours," Liz agrees, "my workaholism can take a break from time to time.

"Wednesday, then?" Maria asks.

"Wednesday," Liz agrees as she feels her phone buzz.

"Tell Max I say hi," Maria says as she walks away backwards, "and that he owes me a song."

"How do you know," Liz begins to ask as she pulls out her phone," it's Max?"

"Am I wrong?" Maria asks as she points to Liz's phone.

When Liz looks down, she sees that it is and shouts again, "Wednesday!"

"Wednesday!"

She walks inside the Crashdown, which has a few straggling customers, and checks on her dad in the back. "Como estas, Pa?"

"How's Maria?"

"No se," Liz answers, "Mimi's getting worse y la curandera was a fake."

"Aye," her dad sighs, "y ahora?"

"I have to return a phone call to Max," Liz says, "but before I do, do you need anything?"

"No, m'ija," he says kissing her forehead, "dile he can have milkshakes on the house whenever he wants…"

"I will, Pa," Liz answers as she walks up the stairs.

Please let me know what you think...and should I write a fan fic based on #Malex's concluding scene? Thank you for taking the time to read! :)


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not know the characters of Roswell New Mexico the book series or the television show.

Liz and Max have a lot to discuss and a lot to make up for...how and where do they begin?

OoOoO

After hanging up her jacket in the coat closet, she opens the fridge for something to snack and to drink. She pulls out the orange juice and then goes to the pantry to see what finger foods she can munch. Once she's decided on a granola bar, she takes both to her room, and dials Max's number.

Max, finishing a grocery list given his almost barren fridge and pantry, picks up after the second ring, smiling at the sight of her name on his phone, "Hey," he says. "Thanks for calin me back."

"Sorry I missed your call," she says sitting down on a sofa, beginning to take off her shoes, "I was catching my dad up on the weekend."

"That's why I'm calling," he says, "Michael's with Alex now, telling him the truth. Showing him his bunker…"

"Really?" Liz asks switching her phone to her other ear to give her a free hand to unzip the other shoe. "Huh. A weekend of truth-telling"

"Yeah," Max says, "I was surprised…"

"That is surprising," Liz says, "especially after what happened to Maria…"

"Maria?"

"Yeah," she says, "they weren't gone all night doing nothing. But you don't know that."

"Know what?"

"Exactly," she answers, sitting down on the couch with which she replaced Rosa's bed, and beginning to take off her shoes. "You worried?"

"No," he answers filling up his water filter pitcher. "Not about Alex, at least," he clarifies. "The murders, the other alien," he pauses, pouring himself a glass of water, "I don't know what to think or how to approach all this."

"Hmm," she says walking to her bed. She puts him on speaker as she takes off her socks and her leggings. "I have faith you and Is will figure out what you need us to do," she offers, "now that you're willing to tell people about who you really are."

"Yeah," he breathes walking over to the couch. "You know the worst things I've done and believe in me."

"Same," she says putting her clothes in her , "our timing didn't suck this time," she jokes.

"No," he chuckles, "it didn't suck at all…"

The silence between them fills with the joy of the morning's kiss and the hope of what seeing each other will bring them.

Liz doesn't know how to respond to that, not when they're not in the same room. Then, she remembers he rejected dancing with her, "You still owe me a dance, Evans," she says.

"I do?"

"Yeah," she says reviewing the clothes in her closet for what to wear Monday, "you said no to be at the bar?"

"Oh yeah," he recalls, looking back at how even in company wanting to engage with him, he was acting like a wounded hermit. "Sorry about that...I wasn't sure why you were asking me...I didn't know."

"How you gonna make it up to me, Evans?"

"Make it up to you?" he asks as he walks into his room to grab a pillow, sheets, and a blanket.

"What did you do, Max?" Isobel asks from his bed.

"On the phone, Is!" Max tells her.

Liz begins to laugh at the banter that continues between them.

"So," Isobel says getting up and grabbing the phone from him, "Liz, what did he do?"

On hearing Isobel's voice, Liz throws her head back, laughing, and says, "he didn't dance with me when I asked.

"Figures," Is says, "not captain obvious, is he?

"Nope," Liz answers, giggling.

"Well," Isobel says, "now you have a date to the UFO museum gala, Max...would that do?"

"Sure," Liz answers, trying to hold continued laughter, "I'd just need to find a dress.

"I can help with that," Is says, "in a couple days?"

"Sounds good!"

"Here you go, Max," Is says handing his empty hand his phone, "Jeez!"

"Thanks?"

Isobel nods and sweeps him away with a hand.

On returning to the living room, Max has a hard time saying anything, as Liz has released laughter inspired by that conversation. "I guess she's finally okay with us," Max says when Liz quiets her laughter.

"I guess so," Liz agrees catching her breath, "but we don't have to go if you don't-

"I do," he interjects, "do you?"

"You're gonna go and support isobel, right?"

"Yeah," he answers setting down the pillows and blanket he grabbed from his closet.

"Then of course," she says, "I'd love to, but we're not going in your jeep."

"What's wrong with my Jeep?!"

"It's not a gala ride, Max," she answers throwing herself on her bed, feeling like a teenager. "We can take my car…."

They spend the rest of the night talking to each other, finalizing plans for the gala, and rewriting all the almost's and apprehension between them. Liz is honest about the morning in the desert, why she lied about not having feelings for him. Max admits that he learned Is had wiped her memories because he considered wiping hers so she would leave and not feel the pain of what she had learned. "I wanna be completely honest with you Liz," he explains, "even about the not so great stuff we-I almost did…I'm not proud of what i asked for in grief or in anger. "

"Me, either," she says, twirling her hair in her fingers. "Love makes you do crazy things, it makes you do beautiful things."

"It does," he says laying himself on the couch, adjusting the pillow behind his head, "so how do you feel about me, Liz?"

"This,"she breathes, "I feel this…"

OoOoO

Still working on fluff and potentially more dramatic, romantic, intimate chapters. Please let me know what you think so I know what to consider...Thanks for reading!


	6. About never waiting

Liz insists on a pre-gala date talking about churros and pancakes. They debated on where to go, considering the places Max feels are crowded enough to not be heard talking about aliens and intimate enough to be close with her. Roswell wasn't Santa Fe or Albuquerque-there weren't many options. They opted for Italian on Main Street, far enough from others they tend to see at their usual hang outs, and intimate enough to just be together.

Liz left work early enough to change because, even though Max thought she looked beautiful in anything, she wanted to get dolled up, as she rarely had the chance. Some of the outfits were hard to consider, as she was still rewriting the memories of what they meant. "Why did I ever get engaged," she thought to herself, swiping her engagement dress to the left. In the search of something she wanted to have just for Max.

On hearing Max was taking Isobel out to dinner, Isobel stopped by to trim his hair and help him pick out dress shirt and slacks that didn't look horrible. "You're such a small town guy," she told him as she was rifling through his closet.

"Yes," he joked watching her from his bed, "it's part of my charm…"

"Uh huh," Isobel muttered as she found something in the back of his closet, "so glad you're going out more."

He arrived at the Crashdown in his jeep. He walked in, sat at the only empty stool at the counter, pulled out his phone and informed Liz he was waiting for her there. A few minutes later, when the entry door bell chime sounded, he turned to find her in leggings, a wine colored sweater dress, under her classic leather jacket. Instead of having her hair down as usual, she had loosely braided it, revealing more of her neck than he would get to see.

"Hey," he said as he walked towards her.

"Hey yourself," she responded taking in his 5 o'clock shadow on his face .

He followed her out of the crashdown and, as soon as they exited the doors, he bent down and kissed her.

"Can we walk?" she asks as they break apart to start walking. "I want to enjoy the night sky with you."

"Sure," he says taking her hand.

She grabs his arm with her other hand, leaning on his shoulder, "What's new?"

"A lot and not much at the same time," he says as they walk, "Isobel told Noah and he took it well, apparently; Alex is still processing everything Michael told him," he continues as they reach the doors, "I can't blame him."

They continue talking after they're seated. The fake candlelight on the table set a warm mood and, while they don't say it, they appreciate the moment stolen from hunting aliens and saving people. They sit at a booth near a window, and Max asks to sit with an eye on the door. She agrees, setting her jacket on the inside of her seat, stretching her neck as their waiter brings menus. "I'm glad we're doing this," he says.

"Me, too," she agrees, "Have you worked on that piece of writing you had started the other night?"

He shakes his head as he looks over the menu, "I haven't made the time, with all that's going on-but I hope to once we solve that one mystery…"

She nods, understanding him to mean the fourth alien, "Hmm…"

"I did move all my books back home yesterday," he starts changing the subject. I take for granted how much I own until i move them…"

"Why don't you buy e-books," she asks, "less to carry."

"Because I love, I love the smell and feel of old books," he answers eyeing the waiter, "it's part of the experience…"

"Are you ready to order?" she asks.

He nods as the waiter comes their way. She asks for Malbec to accompany her meal and he, the driver, sticks with water, "I'll have a glass of what she's having when our dishes arrive," he explains.

As the waiter leaves, Max takes Liz's hands, "you got a manicure."

She nods as she watches him study her hands, "I rarely have an excuse to do my nails and," she says shrugging, "I felt like this was a good excuse. My hands handle papers, computers and chemical compounds all day...I wear gloves and I just...just forget them."

He smooths over the back of her hands with his thumbs. They're as soft as he expects, though he catches minor scars that he hadn't seen before. One from an accident in ap bio, he remembers her knuckle getting to close to the burner. It takes studying them to remind me of how she hissed in response but kept on going. "Your hands," he begins, "were one of the first reminders of your strength. Like this scar," he says circling it with his thumb, "I remembered when it happened-

"I was clumsy and got too close…"

He nodded, "I mean I know you're used to kitchen heat, but you acted like it was a knick…

"It was," she says, "I've accidentally grabbed hot plates," she continues turning her hands palms up. "I was thirteen when I burned the bottom of my palm," she says offering it to him.

"Here," he asks brushing his pointer against it.

She nods.

"I can feel the tenderness," he says lingering, "still."

He then traces the lines in her hand, barely grazing the skin. She adjusts herself in her seat, something about the way he touches her warms other parts of her body she can't acknowledge in public.

Max sees how her body reacts to his touch. Instead of removing his fingers, he continues tracing the lines on the palm of her hand, then her fingers. Once he's touched the tip of her middle finger, he slides his fingers down to her wrist and slowly up her arm, saying, "I can get used to this," stopping short of her elbow.

Once he straightens himself up and smiles, she clears her throat, "Get used to what?"

"Making you nervous," he answers leaning into his chair and meeting her eyes.

"That's not nervousness," she clarifies.

"What is it?"

"Something," she says looking down as warmth rushes to her face, "we have to wait for."

"Wait-

"Drinks are coming" Liz says turning towards the waiter coming towards them.

As the waiter sets the glasses and bread down, he says, "Food will be out shortly"

Liz turns her head up to the waiter and says"Thank you."

When the waiter is out of earshot, Max asks, leaning forward, "What will we have to wait for?

Liz leans forwards with a with a smile and whispers in his ears, "the ways we can make each other squirm with our hands…"

She pulls back into her seat, takes a sip of her wine and takes a slice of bread, smiling.

Max swallows hard, takes a gulp of water.

Liz slips off her shoe and begins to run her foot up her leg.

In response, Max dribbles water all down the front of his collared shirt.

"It's a good thing that's water," Liz chuckles.

Max can feel his cheeks warm, and he can't help but wonder why he chose a skin color that shows his emotions so well.

OoOo

I am considering more mature content in the next chapter given what I've set up here. Let me know what you think. Thanks so much for reading!


	7. We can do that later

This starts where Liz and Max left us at the end of episode 10. Important conversations continue and the need to be close to one another in the face of so many almost's continues to grow...

Leaving the burnt lab, Max leads Liz out contemplating what they both discussed. The night before, they were teasing each other about taking their relationship to the next level, and now, with the attack on the lab, they were contemplating an unknown enemy. The only thing clear - Isobel wasn't at fault for Rosa's murder; the fourth alien was more powerful than they were.

They grab her jacket and purse out of her locker and start walking towards the exit. Liz reviews the series of events. Isobel had asked for more antidote after giving Liz time to process the shift. She and Max kissed earlier that week. Alex learned more about Michael's history. There were less people in the know than not given how Kyle told Jenna on top of everyone else knowing. Maria remains in the dark, as she takes time away from Michael and Alex given the declaration of love she heard from both of them. Liz couldn't shake that they lost their chance to know more. "If only I insisted on having Isobel take the antidote," Liz thinks out loud was they walked out of the hospital, "if only we kept it-

"You can't think like that Liz," Max says wrapping his arms around her. "You were trying to keep each other safe; going for cover was the best idea.

Huddling herself into his arms, she says to his chest, "Can I just stay with you tonight?"

"Yeah," he answers kissing her forehead, "Sure, but you're driving."

"Why?" she asks pulling away from him.

"Because I came here with Jenna," he answers smiling, "so my car's at home."

"Oh," she says as they turn to walk towards the parking lot. Considering what Jenna had said earlier that day, Liz considers, "You know she cares about you, right?"

"Who?" he asks as they cross the hospital's lawn towards the parking garage.

"Jenna," Liz answers, "she was surprised about you going in there to be the hero; she said that was new. And then she was talking about how you hadn't come out yet when I saw the smoke coming from the building. Her tone," Liz continues slowing her pace, "esta enamorada."

"We were just-"

Liz interrupts and says, "Recreational? And partners at work? No, Max," she continues answering her own question, "especially if she ever stayed over in the morning…"

Max sighs, considering what Liz was saying, "She did. Right before she gave me the stuff I left at her place back," he says, "right around when Isobel checked herself in…"

Liz nods as they continue to walk towards the elevator towards her car. They remain silent on the way up, standing at a distance, reflecting on the conversation they had just had about Jenna. Max wondered why Liz felt she needed to tell him. Liz wonders how to navigate dating a guy whose partner had such strong feelings for him, in light of knowing that Max and Liz just started dating and that, before then, Max was in love with her.

On reaching her car, Max breaks the silence and says, "You know I don't have feelings for her."

"Yes," she answers grabbing his hand instead of unlocking the car, "I shared what I realized about Jenna so that you're careful with her," she adds, "she knows where she stands with you. Don't ignore that…"

"Noted," he agrees, "maybe we should set her up with Kyle?"

"Aye!" Liz chuckles unlocking her car, "que voy a hacer contigo?"

"What?!"

"Yeah," Liz begins to mock, "that makes _PERFECT_ sense…"

He walks to the passenger's side of the car, gets in as she starts the car, "It does!"

They spend the car ride home debating about whether or not Jenna and Kyle would make sense given their personalities and histories. In talking about other people, they briefly forget about the intensity of the day's events. On arriving home, though, Max's phone buzzes with the news Isobel took more secret serum Michael had kept guarded from Liz. "Just so you know," Max says as she walks around to him, "Michael had swiped a vial of antidote and Isobel took more of it."

"I don't know how she reacted to what she had already taken today," Liz says as she opens the backseat door behind Max's, "we hadn't discussed its aftereffects."

"Hmm," Max says watching her grab a duffel bag from behind the door, "we'll probably find out what happened tomorrow. Thank you for being good with her…"

"I mean," Liz says, "of course, especially considering that she was probably mind controlled in her dynamic with Rosa. We're all pawns to this fourth alien…"

"Yeah," Max sighs, desperate to focus on something good, so he offers to take her bag, "I can take that, if you want."

"Thanks," she says handing the bag over to him, "I carry a change of clothes if I feel I'm going to be at the lab for a while."

"Really?" he asks as he leads her to his door.

"Mhmm," she answers, "I would sometimes stay working late and just choose to nap in one of the doctor's resting rooms instead of going home…"

"Huh."

"Yeah," she explains as she follows him into his house, "I had to save my future boyfriend's sister."

"Boyfriend, huh?" he asks throwing her back onto his armchair.

"Yes," she said wrapping her arms around him, "boyfriend…"

"Hmmm," he hums.

After a small kiss, she breaks apart and walks to his kitchen, "what are we eating for dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"Yeah," she says looking through his fridge, "I've barely eaten today."

As she stands up from the fridge, fairly stocked but nothing to cook coming to mind, Max lays a hand on the small of her back and says, "Let's just order in; we've been through a lot today…"

"Agreed. I was so scared when you went back in there after we got out," she says pulling out filtered water pitcher, "what were you thinking?"

"Trying to catch the bad guy," he answers lifting a corner of his mouth, "Thinking back over last weekend, I realized there are things I can do, alien or not-

"Valenti was pissed because you weren't following protocol."

"I know," he says as she pours him a glass of water, "it's just been such a...so much has happened around _us, _and it's not like people didn't know we existed-

"They just wanted to hide it," Liz interjects as they both walk back to the front room. "While I first wanted to know what happened to Rosa, so much more has become clear about her, about you, and about this town…"

Max nods as Liz sits down and leans on the couch. He stays standing for a minute, recalling the series of events. On uncovering Rosa's real autopsy, they realize that there were people in government who knew. On Liz following the evidence she had found, Grant Green dies by Wyatt Long's hands because he was possessed by someone, indicated by the symbol he was drying. Following the symbol to Texas, they learned an alien had come out of the pods earlier, healed people like Max had, and died as they were coming out of the pods. That day, they realized that someone knew about the serum and the antidote because in burning the lab, they took the time to open the draw and destroy the vials.

"Max," Liz calls to him, grabbing his closest had.

"Sorry," he says sitting down next to her, "I was just reviewing everything we've learned in the past few months," adding as he took her in his shoulder, "it's a lot."

"I'm just glad you're okay," she says leaning her head on his chest, "we've had too many scares."

He smoothes her hair from her forehead and bends his neck to give her a kiss, "You're trembling."

She squeezes him tighter, "I just-I hated being rational today because part of me wanted to go in there with you, but Jenna threatened to cuff me-

He lifts her face up to his, takes in her dark chocolate eyes and whispers, "Liz, I'm okay."

Kissing him is all she could do to stop from sobbing. Still, she feels her tears fall as he pulls her in closer. Having gotten to a place with complete honest and an external threat, Liz feels a complete lack of control that unnerves her. She's too involved now, and what's going on is bigger than just one cover up. There's someone out to get them in ways that they can't even begin to imagine and there are no signs as to when they could strike next.

"Saving people is one thing," she admits when they part from their kiss, "but please don't go being the hero without help, okay?"

"Okay," he says as she returns her head to his chest.

On hearing her stomach rumble, she asks Max for the menus he has at his house. "I order from apps," he explains pulling out his phone.

She sits up and nods, beginning to scroll through his favorites, "Pizza feels like a good idea," she says, "with wings."

He smiles taking in the sight of her leaning back on the other side of the couch and scrolling through his phone. When she sets her feet on his lap, he begins taking off her shoes. "What ingredients do you want on the pizza?" she asks.

"Mushroom," he begins as he slips off one shoe, "spinach and…

"Basil," she interjects.

"Sausage?" he asks as he slips off the other.

"Hmm," she says tilting her head up as she considers it, "that works. And your wings?"

"Real spicy," he says trying to mimic the guy from the motel.

Liz throws her head back in laughter, "Max! Seriously?"

"A little spicy," he clarifies the corners of his mouth defying gravity.

"Okay," she says a corner of her mouth lifting in a smile.

Once she's done with the order, she hands him his phone in the case he needs to put in any information.

He completes the order as she lays her hands behind her head, taking in the day's events. She texts her dad to let him to know she's staying with Max and that they're both okay. "I should have done this earlier," she says on reviewing her messages, "I know he doesn't have access to a tv, but people come in and talk. Soy tan mal."

"You should call him," Max offers, "I know he'd appreciate that…"

"And that's why," she begins as she sits up, "he likes you."

She stands up and dials the number at the crashdown, catching him up on the days events. He sounds relieved to hear her voice and in response to the distorted accounts he received from Crashdown customers, she clarifies the nature of the events, telling him that they were attacking the kind of research she was doing. That no one was hurt, save a bullet grazing.

Max watches her pace, using Spanish to speak to her dad. Watching her and listening to her, he pays closer attention to the tone she uses with her dad. Still the grief and stress from earlier today, though tenderness underlies it. Not just a daughter apologizing for taking his fear granted, her soften sounds and therefore feels differently in Spanish. When she tells her dad she loves him before getting off the phone, Max shares his observations with her saying, "Spanish isn't about setting yourself apart, is it?"

She returns to the couch, laying down in the position she was before, she explains, "No."

As he begins to smooth his hands over her legs, she says, "I think and speak and feel in both. With my dad, speaking Spanish is a language we share, centering on the sharing. Sometimes when I get mad I use it, or really sad...I also use it when I'm really happy.

"Other times," she continues as their eyes meet, "it's just what comes to my head."

"When I saw my mom a couple months ago," Max begins, "she said it took us months to speak, like we were studying them to learn the language-which makes sense," he says looking into that memory, "we were trying to make sense of our place in the world. Sometimes I wish we knew the language we spoke before-that we knew some part of our history, but then," he says returning his gaze to her, "sometimes I realize not having it means I can focus on the present," and laying on top of her he says, "the future."

"Not knowing your past must be hard sometimes," she says running her fingers through his hair. "That you have 2 other people as lost as you are about that-

"I feel like," he says, "that's enough for now. What did the healer on the rez know? Did she know we were in the pods? Did she knew when were going to walk out?" Setting his head on her chest, he says, "I don't know that I want to get completely lost going under that trail."

She smooths her hand over his hair and they sit in silence, contemplating the uncertainty of what lies ahead. Uncertainty based on the lack of memory, Liz thinks to herself, leaves them-Max, Michael, and Isobel-pawns in someone else's game. A game that affects so many more people than they realize.

Max finds comfort in his closeness with Liz, in spite of everything else going on around them. Her heartbeat steadies under him, and her breathing helps him calm down after the intensity of events that day. As important as solving the mysteries around them may be, for the moment, he surrenders to the feelings of Liz's closeness. Her hand smoothing over his hair, the rise and fall of her body under him as she inhales and exhales, make him the happiest he's ever been.

When the doorbell snaps them out of their cocoon, Max gets up to answer it, and brings the pizza to where they were laying. By the time he gets there, however, Liz is sitting up, "do you want to eat here, instead of the table?" she asks as he sets the pizza down on the coffee table.

He shrugs as stands back up, "It doesn't matter."

He goes back to the kitchen to grab plates and napkins.

As he goes to the kitchen, Liz sets aside the nonfood items-books, mostly-to protect them from potential tomato sauce stains. She grabs a hair tie out of her back pocket and sweeps her hair up so it doesn't get in the way of her eating. She takes a plate from Max when he returns to sitting next to her.

"I love," he says lowering his head, "your neck," he whispers into it before he kisses her.

"Max," she says pulling her neck away, "a comer!"

"We can do that later," he declares as he grabs a piece of pizza.

"We can," she says giving him a side nudge.

This story kept me up, as I wanted them to talk about the events like they had during/after the Grant Green attack. With no secrets or lies between them, it felt important to have them 'thinking to themselves' and talking to each other more. I wanted to end it on a kiss, but even now it doesn't feel done because so much happened. Feedback would be much appreciated!


	8. Dance with me

"Can I go take a shower?" Liz asks after they finish the pizza and most of the wings.

He nods as he picks up the pizza box, "Sure," adding as he follows her down the hall, "if you give me a sec, I can get you a towel and…"

"I'll leave the door unlocked," she says as she walks to the bathroom, which lies behind the kitchen, "and you can just leave it in there once you're done in here."

"Oh," he says heat rising to his face, "you sure?"

"Mmhmm," she says as she walks into the bathroom.

He steals a moment from cleaning up to take in the good that was happening. Liz's sense of trust and intimacy with him still surprising him in the tiny moments like that. In months they went from estranged former classmates to sharing food, space, time, and closeness. They had saved each other, literally and figuratively, in ways that bound them together, inspiring a deeper love than he felt possible. As he walked outside to throw out the garbage, he caught his reflection smiling at him. The clear cold night sky smiled down at him as he placed recycling and garbage in their respective containers. As the cold air entered his lungs, he felt the joy in his heart return it to the sky warmer and lighter than it entered him.

He washed his hands before going to his linen closet to grab a towel for Liz. He knocked on the door, and called out, "Liz," after Liz didn't respond to the knock.

On the other side of the door, Liz was letting the water run over her, letting the hot water attack the knots in her back. When she heard Max mumble what may have been her name, she called out, "It's open!"

In his bathroom, he found that Liz had folded the clothes she had worn that day, leaving them in the corner of the sink closest to the door. Her other clothes, a set of sweats, sat on the other, under a comb and a bottle of lotion. He set the folded towel on top of it, and then asks, "Do you need anything else?"

She peeks her head out of the curtain and said, "No," and on meeting his eyes added, "thank you."

He nods in response, turning towards the door as she returned behind the curtain. On exiting the bathroom, he turns into the kitchen to grab a cloth and cleaner to wipe down the table. He bends down in front of the coffee table, wipes stray drops of pizza and wing sauce that landed as they served themselves. Once he's done, he returns the books Liz set aside to the their place, save for two he felt were ready to return to their place on the shelves. He hangs her jacket on the coat rack by the front door, next to his, and drops the cloth he used to clean the table into the laundry machine right next to the bathroom. Afterwards, he scans the kitchen and makes sure he puts away the napkin container he had pulled out earlier. Then he rinses the dishes they used and sets them in the dishwasher.

He takes off his shirt and undershirt, throws them in the wash. As he passes the bathroom door again, he knocks and asks, "Do you want to put your clothes in the wash?"

Already out of the shower, and having thrown on her sweatshirt, she says, "Sure, just gimme a minute." She throws on her sweatpants and opens the door to hand Max the clothes she had worn that day. She pauses in front of his naked torso, looking him down then up, "I didn't use," she begins as she clears her throat, "all the hot water…"

"Thanks," he says as he takes the clothes she hands him.

"I also did my best to not have my hair clog your drain," she adds as she loosens her grip on her clothes, "it tends to get everywhere because it's so long…"

He smiles as he walks backwards from her, and then turning to put the clothes he's collected in the washer. "I'ma check to see if there's anything else I can put in here," he says as he turns to his room, "before I take a shower."

"I'll be snooping in your books in the meantime," she says as she walks to the living room.

On reviewing his titles, catching the sound of the shower in the background, she notices that he mostly reads white men, a disconcerting fact, save for the moment she reminds herself that he didn't go to college and that Roswell doesn't have bookstores that sell people of color or Latin American authors translated in English. And how would anyone know where to look, considering who they were assigned in class. Most of the books were cloth hardcovers, used and rare books, which also explained his limitations. The titles were familiar American white men and British white men writers, with a scattering of Jane Austen, Mary Shelley and the Bronte sisters. As she turned towards his desk, she realized he didn't have a television.

She peeked in his room to see if there was one in there.

There wasn't.

"He really is a bookworm," she thinks out loud, "huh."

She leaves the wall of books, seeking more water to drink. Being well hydrated, especially in times of stress, helps her sleep better than getting drunk, a lesson she learned in her last year in Colorado. Trying to plan a wedding had sparked enough anxiety and stress that getting drunk with her friends out there couldn't shake. Being back, she could look back at that time and recognize that she struggled with sleep because of how much of her life had been unresolved. As messy as the world around her was at that moment, she had a sense of vision and purpose and peace that she hadn't felt since she ran away all those years ago.

For once in her life, she no longer felt the need to run.

Looking at his walls of books, every shelved corner, and over the head nook filled with them, she considered the worlds and emotions they allowed him to escape to or, at least, worlds in which he could get lost and imagine belonging. She'd sought that by leaving Roswell physically. Looking at the newer titles on the shelf above the counter/island dividing his kitchen from his living room, she wondered if books offered him a similar escape. She walked outside to take a look at the night sky she rarely saw from her and her dad's place, as their view was crowded by street lights and buildings.

Max lived on the edge of town, a part of it, though not completely integrated into it. The open land beyond the edge of his patio swallowed a great deal of light, leaving the stars the stage to dance, shine, and sparkle. She never studied constellations, like Rosa, but she did love the patterns in the sky above her head.

OoOoO

Max gets confused when, on exiting the bathroom, there's no sight or sound of Liz. As he calls out for her, he throws his remaining dirty clothes in the washer. When still no answer, he turns to see his side door cracked open, a draft coming in. On walking out the door, he finds Liz standing in a sea of darkness, her gray sweats reflecting the light of the moon and the stars. "Hey," he called out,"what're you doing?"

She turns to see Max clad in pants and his jacket, "Just thinking," she answered walking towards him. "There's so much more I have to learn about _you._"

"What d'you mean?" he asks as she approaches him.

"Your house is walled with so many books," she begins, "you want to write something people can get lost in because," she pauses to take his hands, "they're the safest you've been…"

He bends down to kiss her, and his arms wrap tighter around her as she leans into him more. "Your cheeks are cold," he breathes as they part for air.

"Kissing you makes them warmer," she whispers back nuzzling his nose before returning to kissing him.

He collects her sweatshirt in his hands, and she feels the remaining draft tickle her back. So she slides her hands under his jacket, digging her fingers into the small of his back. "Your hands," he squeals.

"Sorry," she laughs as she pulls them out from under his sweatshirt.

"How long were you out there?"

"Dunno," she answers blowing her hot breath into her hands.

He takes her cold hands into his and rubs them warm, "C'mon," he says pulling her back to the couch.

"What do you do when you're not reading?" she asks as she sit with her back against his chest.

"I'm not always reading," he defends.

"You don't have a television," she retorts sitting up and turning towards his face.

"Gimme a sec," he says lifting her off of him. He plugs his phone into the port he digs up under other books and the journal on his desk. He opens his music collection and starts a playlist of acoustic rock he sometimes listens to do to get him writing. He returns to his place on the couch, returns her to leaning against his chest. "Sometimes," he says smoothing his hand against her hair, "I listen to music to wind down after an intense day...a book doesn't always cut it."

"Ah," she says nesting herself in Max's embrace. "Will you sing to me?" she asks wrapping her hands around the arms of his around her.

"Well, it has to be the right song."

'I've got all night," she says humming to the familiar tune on the radio.

They lay there, taking in the music, but every so often Max would look down to make sure she was still awake. She was, caressing his arms to the slow rhythms of the acoustic blues songs emanating from his phone. After the intensity of the day, they found a rhythm of silence he hadn't had since before she arrived. That silence, though, was wrapped up in an ache of loneliness he didn't believe he'd ever be able to heal, let alone have the right to heal.

As "Bright Eyes," comes on, Liz asks, "wanna dance with me?"

"Here?" he asks as she turns to face him.

She nods and stands up.

He follows, taking her hand and leading her to the open space between the edge of the couch and the hallway. They take the other in their arms, like they had ten years earlier. "I'm glad we found our way back here," she whispers to his heart.

"Me, too," he responds running his fingers through her hair, twirling a long between them.

She considers saying more or leaning up to kiss him but decides against it, surrendering herself to the stillness of dancing in the arms of the man who loves her. Earlier attempts at similar stillness weren't as fill or grounded as she found herself with him. Moving forward, she had no more reasons to run or leave, or more reasons to stay.

As the song changes, they remain dancing, more like swaying slowly to the music, wrapped in each other.

I changed the chapter's name because it felt pertinent to have a slower build to Max singing for her, and I'm still thinking about which song he'll sing given the little exposure we had to his range. Any recommendations?


	9. Sleepy songs

Liz finds her arms getting heavy, even as they rest on Max's shoulders. "I'm sleepy," she says inching out of his arms. "Can we bring the music to your room?"

He says yeah," as he unwraps his arms from her waist.

She yawns and blinks her eyes to keep herself from dropping right there on the floor. She stretches her arms out and up to see if the blood flow would give her more energy. It doesn't.

After he uploads his phone from the dock, he takes her hand and leads her to his room. She walks into a room lit by moonlight and says, "your house has amazing use of natural light during the day, doesn't it?."

"Yeah," he says turning on the lamp on his side of the bed, "my own natural alarm clock."

"It looks so linear from the front but, it's not...not really," she comments, this room has no right angles."

"I like it," he says shrugging as she approaches the other side of the bed, "the quiet's good for me."

He sets the phone on the dock as she enters the bed. She takes off her pants once she's under the covers, keeping her sweatshirt on for warmth.

"I don't usually sleep with a shirt on," he says, "do you mind if i take it off?"

She nods, avoiding his face. "Go'head."

She turns to see his sweatshirt sweep over his head, his middle and chest revealing themselves to her. She spots the tattoo on his side, and considers touching it She recalls the tests she ran on him earlier in the summer, how she almost kissed him after he clarified that

nervousness _wasn't _the reason his heart was racing. Nervousness, though, was the reason hers had started to race.

Falling asleep next to him in Texas was innocent and accidental. She was intentionally getting into bed with him because the day's events had sparked a need to be close to him. Being close to him without her pants and with him shirtless stirs the thoughts and feelings about clothes not separating them when they first started kissing by the mines. She lays a hand of hers on his chest. "Your heart's racing," she whispers looking up at his eyes.

"Mmhmm," he answers laying a hand over the hand she held over where a human heart would be, "but I'm not-

"Nervous," they say at the same time.

"How come?" she asks smoothing her hand out of his grip over it. Holding it over his abs, she asks another question: "What's making you nervous?"

"You," he begins laying his free hand over her blanket-covered legs, "being here. Just like this."

"Max," she begins raising her hand to his face, and pulling it down to kiss her.

A slow kiss, with her tongue touching on the top of his lip, it differs than earlier ones because it gives so much while asking for so little. He responds in kind, taking in her bottom lip nibbling on it. His body warms, especially as she lowers herself, letting him press down upon her as they continue to kiss.

Liz, tucks that loose lock behind his left ear as he runs his fingers down her side, to then linger right above her hip. His lips and tongue's pressure feel like the ocean at sunset, a rushing force pushing against her skin with moments of tenderness that bring in her in closer. His hands, a floatation device to keep her from drowning.

Max lifts himself off of her, taking in hair spread under her head, a blanket of dark night with her face as the most beautiful star. "You're beautiful," he says as she reaches to kiss his right arm.

"So, are you," she whispers reaching a hand up to his face.

After kissing her palm, he sits up and reaches to his phone on the dock next to him and starts his music again.

She, in response, lays her head on the blanket he's placed over his lap. She closes her eyes as he brushes his hand over her hair. "You comfortable?" she asks.

"Yes," he says resting his head on his headboard as he continues to smooth his hand against her hair.

Norah Jones, "Come away with me," starts to play and he starts singing along with it. Liz turns her head to look up at him looking down at her. She sits up, rests her head against his heart, wraps her arms around him as he sings, "And we'll kiss on a mountaintop, Come away with me and I'll never stop-"

She kisses him before he can finish the lyric, and when their lips part again, he continues the sing. She smiles, nestles in his arms again.

He continues to sing until he notices she's fallen asleep. He kisses her forehead, turns off his music, wraps himself around her, falling asleep to the music of her breathing.

OoOoO 


End file.
